Just Go With It
by CatChester
Summary: One Shot. After Walter is found, Oliver worries that Felicity is about to leave the group and decided to use his charm and her crush to convince her to stay. It doesn't go exactly as he planned. Extra scene, in keeping with canon.


Title: Just Go With It

Author: Cat Chester

Rating: K

Paring: Oliver/Felicity

Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue as all I own are 3 dogs. Actually, you're welcome to the dogs.

Spoilers: Set after S01E21 (the Undertakng). Minor spoilers for season one.

Summary: One Shot. After Walter is found, Oliver worries that Felicity is about to leave the group and decided to use his charm and her crush to convince her to stay. It doesn't go exactly as he planned. Extra scene, in keeping with canon.

As Oliver Queen left Diggle's apartment, he knew his night wasn't over yet, he had one more call to make. Felicity Smoak.

In just a few short weeks she had become invaluable to him and despite their agreement only being until Walter was found, he hoped that he could talk her into staying on, at least until the undertaking was discovered and stopped.

It was more than her razor sharp intelligence and resourcefulness.

She was seven inches shorter and probably weighed half what he did, soaking wet, but she wasn't afraid of him, and she wasn't to be trifled with. She was his conscience as well as his friend, and not afraid to stand up to him when he was crossing a line. But it was more than that even.

She knew him, really knew him. He might not have told her all his secrets but she knew what he did in Starling City. She knew that he had killed and maimed people, and she hadn't shied away from him.

Sometimes he felt as if the island had stripped him of his humanity and when he first returned, he had felt like a robot, going through the motions but not allowing himself to feel much of anything.

His first interaction with her, with the bullet ridden laptop, was the first time he had genuinely smiled since his return, and probably for a long time before that.

Asking for her help was supposed to be a one-time thing and if he needed help again, he would go to someone else. He couldn't risk someone connecting the things that he was looking into, to the Hood, after all but when the time came, he found himself wanting to smile again. He didn't even need her help to find Derek Reston, he just wanted to smile, and he knew her guileless manner would do that.

Then he'd returned with Merlin's black arrow, the Black Hawk Security fob and the vertigo drug, each time knowing that he was increasing the risk of her discovering his secret.

Then, despite all of his lies, she had come to him with Walter's notebook. He decided then that he would invite her into the operation, he just wanted to work out the perfect way to do so, a way that wouldn't frighten her or have her running to the cops to report him.

Getting shot had done away with all that planning but even once she knew the truth, she still trusted him to help her find Walter.

He felt that if a good, kind and moral person like Felicity still thought he was deserving of her respect, then maybe he wasn't as lost as he sometimes felt. Maybe there was hope for him.

He couldn't let her go. Not yet. Maybe, not ever.

He knew that she had a little bit of a crush on him and he wasn't above using that to his advantage. Despite her feelings for him, she wasn't a pushover but he knew that if he charmed her, as he had done before she discovered his secret, she would be more receptive to his offer.

Dressed in his motorcycle leathers, he picked up a bottles of Dom and a bottle of red wine from the wine cellar at home, then headed to her apartment. The leathers were a conscious choice, since he knew she liked the arrow outfit, and this was as close as he could get to that look without wearing the costume.

He parked his bike outside her apartment block and made his way up the fire escape, hoping she would see it as a Romeo and Juliette type gesture, without being too overt.

When he got to her window however, he paused to watch her. Her hair was down, blonde curls falling about her shoulders as she read her kindle. He had the insane desire to pull on one of those corkscrew curls, just to watch it bounce back.

She was wearing skinny jeans, pink, fluffy socks and a pink t-shirt. She looked like a college student, young and innocent.

He tapped on the glass and she looked up, surprised until recognition set in, then she smiled and got up to open the window for him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as he climbed in. Although she was clearly pleased to see him.

He brandished the bottles he held in one hand. "Walter's home, so I thought we should celebrate with champagne and the wine, I remembered I owed you, from when you broke into that security fob for me."

"Thank you?" She didn't look as thrilled as he hoped, in fact she looked rather confused. "I, uh,I thought you'd be with Walter?"

"The hospital want to keep him in for a few days. Do you have any glasses?"

"Um, yeah. Is he okay?" she sounded worried.

"He's fine. He was beaten a few times in the beginning, to see how much he knew, and he was a little malnourished and anaemic, but they think he'll be fine. They just want to observe him, make sure there's no complications."

She looked relieved. "Take a seat." She offered as she headed into her small kitchen for glasses.

He did, taking the chance to look around her apartment. It was small, one bedroom and seemingly only one reception room, but it was in a nice area and a secure building. Clearly she had compromised on space for a better location. He had expected something quirky and modern but instead, she had an eclectic decorating style. The walls were white but decorated with bright oil prints, the furnishings, a two seater sofa and a mismatched armchair, although both were burgundy and had white pillows adorning them.

The coffee table that sat in the middle of the room was aged pine, giving it an antique look, while the bookshelves were made from unfinished wooden planks, with red bricks stacked up at the sides for the planks to rest on. Very rustic but somehow, it complemented the room.

The only item that looked new, was a large computer desk, with two screens and a laptop.

"Here, sorry, I don't have any Champagne glasses." She said, setting two white wine glasses on the table.

"It tastes the same, no matter what it's served in," he assured her. "There's a great little Chinese around the corner; we can go there and celebrate properly if you'd like, or order takeout."

"I know that place, they don't deliver."

"They do for me."

He had taken a seat on the small sofa, leaving her no option but to sit next to him, unless she wanted to look like she was avoiding him by sitting in the armchair.

He popped the Champagne cork, making her jump, and poured two glasses, handing one to her and raising his own.

"I think a toast is in order," he declared. "To us, and to getting Walter back."

She touched her glass to his but she didn't repeat the toast, which worried him; maybe she thought that the 'us' in question was over.

"I spoke too Diggle," he said, knowing that she had been pressing him to do just that.

"What happened?"

"I apologised, told him he was right about my mother and asked him to come back."

"What did he say?"

"Yes."

She gave him a relieved smile. "I'm glad, Diggle's a good influence on you."

If she was so concerned that he needed a good influence, it obviously meant that she wasn't intending to stick around, since in many ways, she was an even better influence on him.

"And how are you?" he asked, resting a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"Me?"

"Yeah, after the casino and everything, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"Good," he gave her a warm smile and began to rub her shoulder with his thumb. "You know, I couldn't have found him without you, Felicity. You are one in a million."

"Thanks."

"Your hair looks lovely this evening, did you do something different?"

"I took it down when I got home, why?"

"Nothing, it suits you, is all."

He reached out and stretched one of her curls, smiling as it bounced back.

"Oliver?"

His gaze went from the lock of hair to her eyes and he cupped the side of her face with his hand.

"You're beautiful," he told her, leaning in to kiss her. That hadn't been a part of his plan but suddenly he very much wanted to know what her lips felt like, if they were as soft as he imagined but before he could, she backed away a fraction.

"O-kay." She leaned to the side so his hand slipped from her face, and placed her glass on the table. When she leaned back, she had what he knew to be her determined face on.

"Oliver, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" he pretended ignorance.

"You come to my apartment for the first time ever, come in through the fire escape rather that the door, like a normal person, bring very expensive Champagne and a five thousand dollar bottle of 1982 Lafite Rothschild, then suggest ordering takeout! You're acting… weird."

"Weird?"

"Look, I like you Oliver; it's not a secret and even if I wanted to hide it, we all know that my lack of a filter between my brain and my mouth would make that almost impossible, but… I don't want this. Or rather, I do, but not like this."

"Like what?"

"You, like this, all flirty and fake."

"What are you trying to say, Felicity?"

"I'm saying that you don't know how you feel, Oliver. You might be doing this whole self-sacrificing thing and leaving Laurel for Tommy but the truth is, you still have feelings for her."

"I don't-"

"Yes, you do, you drop everything the moment she's in danger, and I'm not saying you shouldn't save her, but you are not over her and until you are, don't flirt with me. Ever. I'm not here for your amusement, Oliver and more importantly, you're better than this."

"You're right," he agreed. "I came here tonight because I was worried."

"Worried about what?"

"Losing you. Now that we've found Walter and I'm worried that you're through with us. With me, and I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me?"

"On the team. We need you, Felicity... I need you."

"And you thought the way to go about that, was acting like I'm one of the bimbos from your club?"

"I just…"

"First of all, I'm not going to abandon you after you've just found out about you mom was involved in Walter's kidnapping. Second of all, I'm not going to abandon you until we know what this undertaking is and have stopped it and third, I trust you, Oliver, the real Oliver. The jerk you're being now, flirting with me to get my help, I'd drop him like a hot potato."

"You still want to stay, even after you saw me kill Dominic Alonzo?"

"Even then," she assured him, her tone softening. "When I first came on board, all I knew about the vigilante was that he killed people; I didn't know what they did to deserve it or why he- _you_ were doing it. Now that I know you, I know why, I know that you give them a chance to do the right thing first and if they don't, I know they deserve it. I know you can't see it, but you're a hero, Oliver."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. The work I do with you makes a real difference to people's lives, even saves lives. I'm not giving that up."

"Even the danger part?"

"Even the danger part," she smiled. "Because I know that you've got my back, just like I've got yours."

Oliver smiled and picked her glass up, handing it back to her.

"To our partnership," he said, and this time she repeated the toast as they clinked glasses.

"Just so you know, Felicity, kissing you wasn't part of my plan."

"It wasn't?"

"No."

"Then why did you?"

"You're a very attractive woman."

"I am?"

The guilelessness with which she asked was adorable and he smiled.

"You are. You'll just have to forgive me if I see you as an attractive woman sometimes, instead of just my genius side-kick."

She took his glass from his hand placed it and hers on the table. When she looked at him again, he could see that she was debating something and she licked her lips in a nervous but appealing gesture.

She moved closer and the memory of how sexy she looked when her tongue darting out and she licked her lips, kept him from moving.

A part of him couldn't believe that she would be brave enough to kiss him, while the other part hoped that she was.

"Felicity?"

"Just go with it," she told him.

Then she was kissing him, tentatively at first, hesitantly, until his arms went round her waist. Taking that as permission, she deepened the kiss. She tasted like champagne… and strawberries.

He didn't know where this would lead, or even why it was happening, especially given Felicity's speech of a few moments ago, but he was enjoying it too much to stop.

Felicity was the one who ended the kiss but as she pulled away slightly, he could tell that she had been as affected as he was.

"I always wondered what that would be like," she said, a satisfied smile on her lips.

He couldn't help asking. "And?"

"It was good, it was very… good."

"Just good?"

"Well, it was only a first kiss, and they're always awkward. Second kisses are better, tenth better still."

"We could try again," he suggested, but he had clearly said the wrong thing as her smile faded a little.

"I hope there'll be a second kiss, Oliver, but not until you know what you want."

"What I want?" he repeated.

"_Who_ you want," she corrected.

"And what if I tell you, I want you?"

"I'd say you were lying, or kidding yourself. You're a good man, Oliver, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you walk all over me."

She pulled away properly this time and reached for the unopened red wine, handing the bottle to him.

"You don't want this? Because I promised you a bottle of this for helping me, remember?"

"I remember, and I do want it."

He held it out to her but she shook her head.

"It's too good to have at any time," she said. "It needs to be saved for a special occasion."

"What kind of occasion did you have in mind?"

"I don't know, say, a first date?"

He smiled, enjoying her logic. "It is a very good first date wine," he agreed. "But what happens if we don't get a first date?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess, you can give it to me as a wedding present or something."

She was telling him that she wasn't going to wait for him, that regardless of what he did, she would continue living her life. He admired her for it.

"You're one in a million, Felicity."

"I know," she grinned. "Thanks for the champagne."

She was dismissing him.

"You're welcome." He got to his feet and made his way to her window, intending to leave the same way he came. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

She nodded. "Count on it."

"Good night, Felicity."

"G'night, Oliver."


End file.
